


when you read my fortune

by misskass



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Choking, M/M, enthusiastic consent is obtained after starting, i repeat there is no negotiation beforehand, sibling incest (technically), they did not negotiate!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 13:52:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18095576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misskass/pseuds/misskass
Summary: are we running home or running free today?It's simple: Diego and Klaus, wrapped in thick layers of semi-darkness, early morning, and clothes that don't quite fit their edges.





	when you read my fortune

Diego is used to sleeping without silence. The boiler room in the gym, while comfortably sized for a man in hiding, always rattles with the noise of rushing water through old pipes, or a leak that drips on and off depending on the time of year. And then anyway, it wasn't like the life of a vigilante was lived during the day, so every morning Diego falls uncomfortably through the tiny window (to avoid being seen with blood on his hands) to a melody of grunts and cheers from the fighters above.

Moving back into the Academy... well, despite there being only eight inhabitants in a building the size of an entire city block, the house is a noise machine. Whispered conversations, screamed arguments, the sound of Five popping into the kitchen and knocking over every mug yet again. And sometimes, the soothing sound of violin music fills the halls. It's nostalgic in a way that creeps into Diego's heart and nestles there, dulling (a couple of) the traumas of his past.

They're all so much older, after the timeline reset and the quantum leaping and the months of fear, hoping that reliving their lives would fix all the right things. Their bodies persist now in familiar forms, new hurts forming beside those that are healed (Diego bites cheerful sobs behind gritted teeth as Patch scolds him at a crime scene). Even Five is the same thirteen year old kid, for all his muttering about equations and fixing the continuum.

So really, Diego should have easily slept through the dull thudding of hollow rubber shoes against the carpeted hallway beside his room. Instead, the adrenaline rush drags him upright, reaching for the knife behind his headboard and tossing it to curve around the edge of the door as it opens, aiming to pin the intruder to the wall.

What he gets, instead, is a whimpered "ouch" and a mournful whimper out of his current dumbest brother (usurping Luther, who'd recently walked into another doorframe and ripped an entire panel of tiles off a bathroom wall).

"Klaus?" Diego lowers his second knife. "The fuck?"

From outside the door there's another depressed sound, the saddest little kicked puppy whine he'd ever heard. "You cut me!"

Diego rolls his eyes, squashing his immediate reaction to comfort Klaus. "You bust into my room at..." he pauses, searching for the clock in the semi-darkness. "Four in the morning and expect me to _not_ freak?"

There's a noise of effort and the drag of a sharp knife through fabric, then Klaus stumbles through the door. "Look, I had something important to show you. More important than the fancy knife I _borrowed_ from that murder couple after they broke into the Academy that one time." He sweeps one arm down his body, standing with his hips cocked forwards. "What do you think?"

Diego squints into the darkness, Klaus' body a silhouette against the light of the corridor. "How should I know?"

"Oh! Right. Mom did always say I was better at eating my carrots." Klaus gropes around until he finds the pull cord on a nearby lamp. Dim light floods the area as it clicks on, and after his eyes stop watering in the sudden brightness, Diego sucks in a sharp breath.

Klaus is standing proudly in their old uniform, tiny shorts riding low around narrow hips, the waistband obviously digging tightly into his skin. The button down shirt, already cut tight on them as kids - "No thread shall be out of place!" was a common booming command out of Sir Hargreeves during uniform check - strains at the buttons, and Klaus had left the sleeves undone as they rode up past his wrists. There's a flash of red across Klaus' right bicep, travelling slowly towards the knife in his hand. He doesn't do anything about it.

Diego forces himself to blink. "Uhh." He starts, takes a breath, and then attempts to speak again. Klaus, dressed in tight clothes, in his room in the middle of the night. His brother was a total mystery. "Why?"

"Well, Allison is always mighty annoyed when I borrow her clothes, and Vanya's no fun, her style's just so..." he waves his hand, "Vanya. Though I love her so," he adds, his eyes crinkling beneath heavily smudged eyeliner as he smiles. Diego suppresses a responding smile, Klaus' feelings - good or otherwise - have always been so infectious.

"So," he continues, "I thought I'd try out the wardrobe of another sibling. Luther's a little out of my size range and while I do so love your leather, I honestly figured you slept in it." Klaus gestures across the room as Diego realises a little too late that his sheets are around his waist. "Guess I was wrong about that one.

"Five was the only remaining choice." Suddenly, Klaus stares into the middle distance, somewhere past Diego's left shoulder. "Dad locked up your room! Yeah of course I can pick locks, but I didn't want you floating around and complaining at me about it." Even though Diego had seen Ben with his own eyes back in the theatre, it still feels like a dream knowing that he's always around when Klaus is. Diego reaches his hand out in the general direction Klaus is looking, and for a brief moment he feels a cool touch against his palm.

Klaus smiles towards Diego. "Ben says hey. Well, not verbatim, but close enough. Get out, now." He waves his hand dismissively until he's satisfied. "Back to business. Do you like it?"

Diego shifts in his bed, tightly gripping the leather-bound handle of the knife to ground himself. It wasn't exactly the first time in their many lives that Diego had stared down Klaus' body, but it was the first time he'd been _invited_ to. "That wasn't really an answer to why," he mutters, deflecting his brother's question. He needs a second to fucking think or he's - quite possibly - going to explode.

"Di." It's quiet, reverent, echoing across the room that seemed to get smaller with each ticking second. "Stop hurting your pretty little head with your thoughts for two seconds."

Diego opens his mouth, about to be offended, but Klaus cuts him off. "It isn't wrong to look, you know? You're not the only one to look. We've all had so long with each other." For a moment, Klaus' eyes are shiny, glinting light reflecting back into the room. But then he coughs, shifting on his feet. "Too long, maybe. Sweet Allison and Luther aren't the only ones. Well," he rocks back on his heels, "maybe they are the only ones with the weird gorilla sex thing."

At that, Diego barks out a laugh, and the tension breaks. It's a lot to take in, being given _permission_ to look. He isn't sure what to do with it yet. If Klaus really knew how often Diego had stared at his ass in sheer spandex or skirts, or how Diego's gaze slid across his collarbones when he wore one of Allison's low cut shirts, perhaps there would be judgement before invitation.

Diego pulls one knee up to his chest, casually rearranging the blankets so the interest his dick takes in the situation is less obvious.

"No!" Klaus claps a hand over his mouth, like he's trying to hold in the words. His black nail polish is a stark contrast to his pale skin. "No," he says again, this time through his fingers. "Don't hide. Let me see what it does to you."

Immediately, Diego's eyes shoot to the still-open door. Sure, it's early morning, and apparently everyone had been fucking behind his back except for him - maybe 'everyone' is a little bit of an overstatement - but it was still an open door and definitely _not_ an open invitation to anyone walking past.

Without looking away from Diego's face, Klaus kicks the door softly closed. He takes a single step forward and, illuminated only by dim lantern light, hooks his fingers into the waistband of the shorts, tilting them down as far as they go. From beneath them peeks a sliver of pale fabric, also tight against Klaus' belly, caving in around his hip bones.

Diego feels his face flush, but he can't bring himself to lower his leg. Not yet. "It's... good. Looks about as comfortable as it felt when we were twelve." A memory suddenly assaults him: at twelve years old, Klaus had stolen Vanya's skirt and slid down the staircase banister with it hitched high on his waist, giggling while Diego ran alongside him in a race to the bottom.

"Oh, it's much better now." Klaus' trademark biting sarcasm is evident. "Holds all the bits a little differently than it did then," he shakes his hips, rubbing one thumb along the inside of the waistband, "but well, we've all changed, haven't we." He nods towards Diego's chest. "That little guy is new."

Diego breaks eye contact to look down, fighting the urge to cover his nipple piercing with a hand. Klaus' eyes on his body are like a physical force. "A lot of things are new. This is old, actually. I had it the first time round, too." The ring catches the light as he stretches, preening a little. "Didn't feel right being in this body without it."

"It's good," Klaus says simply, eyes half-lidded. "Touch it for me." Diego doesn't have to breathe, but he takes one deep breath in anyway, steadying. Instead of arguing, or coming up with some smartass comment in return, he follows Klaus' instructions, twisting the barbel gently and letting his eyes fall shut. It shoots a spark of warmth through his chest and to his stomach, where it curls around the pleasure already building there.

"Show me." Diego chews the inside of his cheek at Klaus' words, approaching a precipice he knows he can't return from. Fuck it, he thinks. _Fuck it,_ and he does as he's told, letting his leg slide back down the bed so the thin blanket - he runs hot, always has - pools around the top of his thighs.

Klaus' breath hitches. " _Fuck me_ ," he whispers, echoing loud in the tension-laced air. "Looks like you've done this before," he purrs. His words are laced with desire, not humour, a small comfort.

"Eh?" Diego asks, his eyes still shut, fingers still idly twisting his piercing. His other hand is clenched in the sheets, curling them further away from his body, and he's certain his dick is tenting the fabric obscenely. "Of course I've jacked off before, dumbass."

"Di, look at me." Diego hasn't been called that since he was a kid the first time around, but Klaus always did have a way of staying sentimental (to things that actually mattered). With a lot of arousal and a little apprehension, Diego blinks his eyes open to see that Klaus' pupils are blown even larger in the dim light. Below that, beneath the tight curve of Klaus' waist, Diego finds that the uniform shorts, barely even meeting the middle of Klaus' thigh, are suddenly indecently framing his brother's hard dick.

"I mean, _Di-e-go_ ," the heavy way Klaus breathes his name hits him right in the dick. "It looks like you've done this before, to me. Yeah?"

At that, Diego's tongue feels heavy, he knows he'll suffer getting the next words out. "Fuck. _Fuck_." He presses his palm against his dick, and Klaus bites his lip in response. "A muh-million times. In every l-life." After turning sixteen, and walking in on Klaus fingering a girl in the bathroom, a tiny bag between her teeth. When he was twenty four, tugging hard on his freshly healed piercing, imagining Klaus on his knees in front of him. When he was sixteen _again_ , biting into the flesh of his wrist so he didn't cry out and wake Allison in the next room over.

Now, in front of Klaus. Shamelessly.

Diego shoves his hand beneath the sheets and inside his briefs, circling the slick head of his dick with his thumb. He lets out a little shudder, and suddenly Klaus is so much closer, climbing awkwardly onto the end of the bed in the restrictive outfit. "Don't, not without me," Klaus says quietly, shuffling forward until his knees bump Diego's. "Not without me."

Klaus leans forward and then they're kissing, biting teeth and clashing tongues. It's not pretty, it's fifty years of pent up feelings back in the bodies of twenty-somethings, but it's theirs, and Diego decides he wouldn't have it any other way. He wraps his hands around the back of Klaus' skull and digs canines into his lip, drawing deep noises from the both of them.

He pulls back, sure the bright red flush of his cheeks is now travelling across his chest. Klaus leans back on his heels and reaches for Diego's piercing, pulling it between nimble fingers before leaning down to seal his lips around it and suck, _hard_.

"Klaus..." It comes out as more of a groan, and Diego leans back on his elbows as Klaus chases him down with his mouth. "Feeling a little underdressed here."

Klaus waves his hand, intentionally clicking his teeth against the piercing to draw another deep sound from Diego's chest. "Donwurrboudid."

"Wha?"

Pulling back, Klaus pops off with a slick noise and a grin on his face. There's a throbbing in Diego's nipple and he works to remember it alongside the vision of his brother kneeling between his legs. "Don't worry about it." Klaus looks down, fiddling with the bottom button of the shirt. "Unless you want to-"

Before he can finish his sentence, Diego surges forward, pushing Klaus backwards onto the sheets. His head hangs off the edge a little, so Diego hoists him back, fitting their hips together through layers of clothing. Klaus whimpers, just a little. "You couldn't stop me if you tried." Diego isn't Luther strong, but he did _live in a gym_ , so instead of unbuttoning anything he just tears the shirt apart, scattering plastic buttons across the room.

Klaus faux-gasps, eyes wide with fake fear. "Five's not going to be happy about that!"

"Hey, Klaus." Diego leans down conspiratorially, as though he has a secret, then bites his brother on the earlobe and whispers, "I don't care." Klaus laughs, and bats at his face. Sitting back up, Diego swipes his hands down either side of Klaus' chest, running his thumbs over pebbled nipples and goosebump-riddled skin. Klaus arches beneath him, pushing his body into Diego's palms and grinding up against his dick.

As Diego's hands reach the waistband of the shorts, he finally works out what else Klaus is wearing. "Panties?" The word rolls off his tongue in a weird way, a strange shape between his teeth, but he doesn't stutter. It doesn't surprise him, really, Klaus' disinterest in gender norms is the world's most poorly maintained secret, but the pale pink band gets into his head, and suddenly he desperately has to get Klaus out of his uniform.

Klaus wriggles his way out of the shirt, his body moving with a fluidity that should be impossible for someone slightly trapped in clothing made for an eleven year old. Pulling his own hips back and mourning the loss of friction against his aching dick - which has left a darkened patch against the cotton of his briefs - Diego unbuttons the shorts and breathes out slowly as he exposes more of Klaus' tented panties, also slowly darkening as his dick leaks into them.

They're lacy, and cut to settle just below his hips, and as Diego tears the uniform shorts over Klaus' knees he gets a full view of bare ass. Tossing the shorts across the room, Diego pulls Klaus' body back to meet his again, letting out a soft "ahhh, _fuck_ " as their dicks slide together roughly through the fabric.

"Yeah," Klaus whines, dragging out the sounds as Diego rubs against him. "These are mine, by... by the way. No need to think about Vany-" Diego puts a hand over his mouth, and Klaus moans.

"Can we not talk about our siblings right now? Or maybe ever again?" There are limits to what Diego can handle, and the situation in front of him is rapidly approaching one of those limits.

Klaus nods his head, desperately, until Diego takes his hand away. "Only if you hold me down like that."

Oh. Arousal floods down Diego's spine. "Is that what you want? Someone to put you in your place? Make you feel small?" Diego uses one hand to shove his briefs down, settling them just under his ass and hissing as cool air hits his sensitive flesh. With his other hand he gathers Klaus' thin wrists and pins his arms above his head, his HELLO and GOOD BYE tattoos crossed over each other, a broken ouija board.

He leans forward, pressing his dick alongside Klaus' again, relishing in the feel of the soft lace against his skin. "Don't move." Klaus nods again, eyes wide and the corner of his lip between his teeth, but his hips kick up anyway.

Diego growls, an involuntary warning. He did _not_ see his Tuesday going like this. "I said," he whispers, his low voice a threat. "Don't. Move." Klaus' eyes flutter shut and his breath speeds up, heaving his chest.

"And what if I don't listen?" Klaus is baiting him, and Diego realises his dear sweet brother is getting exactly what he wanted. Diego's dick pulses and he chokes back a moan, all the blood in his body exactly where it shouldn't be if he has any chance of coming out on top.

"Well." Diego moves his free hand to Klaus' throat, running rough fingertips gently against the edges of his brother's sharp jawline. "I might have to shut you up." He thrusts once, slowly, and Klaus hums gently, nuzzling into his hand.

It's heady, to have his brother so pliant beneath him. Even in his many fantasies, there was nothing so real as this drag of lace against his dick or the persistent ache in his nipple from Klaus' lips. He wants those lips in other places, but even from his position Klaus is dictating Diego's every movement and he's lost, all he can do is give his brother what he wants.

Like it's always been. Whatever Klaus asks, Klaus gets. Klaus with the sad eyes, the dark-rimmed windows into a tortured soul (what a cliche). Klaus with the high cheekbones and the knife-edge collarbones and the pale white track marks.

Klaus nudges his hips up again, knocking Diego from his own head with a thrill of pleasure through his dick. "Shut me up, then." He turns his head to the side, exposing the column of his throat. "I want you to, _brother_." He spits it like a curse, playing into the last shreds of Diego's guilt, and _god_ how it works on him.

Diego closes his palm around Klaus' throat, pressing in against the artery to feel it pulse under his grasp. Klaus thrusts up against him, gasping below tight hands, and every time Klaus twists his wrists Diego can feel bones grinding together.

Everything is overloaded. Klaus, dark on pale on red from Diego's knife, arching up beneath Diego's body. Diego leans down to bite a mark into Klaus' pectoral muscle, low enough down that nobody else can see it below a regular shirt line, but knowing Klaus he'd wear something made of mesh until the bruising melted back into his skin anyway.

Klaus is gasping breathlessly beneath him and Diego forces himself to let go, reminds himself that other people need oxygen more frequently to live than he does. Opening watery eyes, Klaus stares up at the ceiling and grins, breathing heavily. "Again, Di. Again. Fuck, I'm so close, you're so good, exactly what I need."

Klaus' rambling praise goes straight to Diego's dick, and he's close as well, hasn't even noticed his hips moving against his brother's body. He leaves the hand around Klaus' throat, not pressing in but threatening to, and removes the hand from around Klaus' wrists. "Stay," he says carefully. "Or I'll stop."

Diego is a little surprised when Klaus doesn't move, but he lets it pass quickly. First, he presses a thumb into the bruising on Klaus' chest until his brother keens, a high noise that Diego cuts off by wrapping his fingers loosely around Klaus' throat again. Klaus looks at him, a thousand emotions in his dark-ringed eyes - half old makeup, half sleep deprivation - and Diego loves him for every one of them.

With his newly freed hand, Diego palms Klaus' dick as best as he can. He doesn't bother to pull it out of the lace, he can tell from Klaus' desperate aborted thrusts and the constant flow of pre-come that he's close. Diego hasn't done it a lot, but he has a powerful need to blow Klaus, to taste what comes out of him and make him feel better than any drug ever could. But, it isn't time for that, not in this dark room at this dark hour.

Diego spits in his palm and returns it to the head of Klaus' dick, rubbing in tight circles and pressing his thumbnail into the slit through the soaked panties. Klaus' spine goes taut and he uses both hands to pull Diego's fingers tighter around his throat, again breaking the rules that were set for him. Diego can't bring himself to care, watching in awe as Klaus' dick twitches and come soaks into the already ruined fabric. He runs his fingers along the head of Klaus' slowly softening dick until Klaus whines, then he releases the hand on his brother's throat, casting his eyes over him to check he's okay.

"Oh." Klaus whispers, his voice wrecked. "That was pretty good." He smiles dreamily at Diego, who rolls his eyes in response and grips his own dick, thrusting firmly into his tight fist. Klaus does absolutely nothing to help, too busy in his own afterglow, but Diego doesn't need anything more than the tight pleasure already coiled in his belly, and the debauched look of his brother below him. Each slick pass of his palm over the head of his dick sparks in his abdomen until he bursts, curling over Klaus' body and biting off a groan as he comes over Klaus' stomach.

Before he becomes too sensitive, Diego ruts into the soaked lace, mixing their come together against the textured fabric and the soft skin stretched over Klaus' hip bones. Klaus runs a finger through the fluid and brings it to his mouth, running it along choke-red lips before sliding it inside and closing his eyes, moaning dramatically.

"Mmm, if I hadn't just come, watching you would honestly make me hard again." Klaus smirks, then opens one eye. "But I need, hmm, maybe twenty minutes?"

Diego flops onto his side, brushing fingers gently over the red rings around Klaus' throat. Hopefully they wouldn't (would) mark and nobody (everybody) would know what he'd done. "Maybe in the morning. I might die, otherwise."

"Yeah, yeah," Klaus whispered, stretching out catlike along the bed. "We're all dying. Why don't we just die a little faster, hey."

In lieu of concern for his brother's words, Diego throws his leg over Klaus' stomach and tries to wrench some of the sheets the wrong way down the bed towards them so they don't have to move. "Later. Later."

Diego doesn't think about the consequences of letting come dry between them, or the pleasured sounds that probably echoed down every nearby corridor. He tries really hard to not think about what the morning might look like, and what unspoken words might fall between them. Instead, he focuses on the soft sounds of Klaus' breathing, already steadied into half-sleep, and presses a kiss to the HELLO in Klaus' palm, lacing their fingers together.

Cool skin meets hot, and fades to lukewarm inbetween.

He'll deal with any fallout later.

**Author's Note:**

> title from _maya the psychic_ by gerard way because it's against the law to use song lyrics that aren't related to him for this fandom.
> 
> once a year kass the porn goblin comes out of hiding, posts something from a completely different fandom to last time, and goes underground again. this year, charred and broken superhero brothers with boundary issues. next year, who even knows.
> 
> also today is my birthday. happy birthday, me.


End file.
